Mary Louise and Josie OGorman | Page 9

and makes a show of affection with
strangers. And children just have to love their mothers a little bit and it
was easy to see those poor kiddies actually hated her. I watched the girl,
Polly, and when the woman told the boy to stop bawling Polly had a
look in her blue eyes that suggested a desire to bite and scratch and
kick or even use a hatchet if one were handy. I think I'll look those
people up."
"But how, Josie?"
"There are ways," smiled Josie. "You see, I am kind of self-elected
detective for the Children's Home Society and my work has begun
already. It is not merely to look after the children in the home but those
who might, could, would or should be in the home."
"Well, I hope you can find out something. I'd like to know about my
poor little Peter. What a precious boy he is!"
That forenoon Josie happened, as if by chance, into the department
store of Temple & Sweet's. First she gave a cursory glance at the
bargain counters where georgette blouses were being tossed about by
eager shoppers like corks on the restless sea. She then looked in at the
shoe department. Seeing nothing there to interest her she made her way
to a lunch counter in the basement and satisfied her healthy appetite
with a club sandwich and a cup of chocolate. All the time she kept her
eye on the shoppers who passed back and forth. After her luncheon she
again visited the pile of rumpled blouses, much diminished, and again
made her way to the shoe department. Evidently she saw something
there that interested her keenly. She hurried to the dressing room and in
a moment emerged looking strangely unlike the Josie her friends knew.
Her sandy hair was completely covered by a henna wig, bobbed and
crimped. Her sedate sailor hat was cocked at a rakish angle and draped
with a much-ornamented veil, and mirabile dictu! a lipstick had been
freely and relentlessly applied to her honest mouth and her cheeks were

touched up with a paint of purplish hue. Her sober Norfolk jacket was
as much disguised as its wearer by a silly lace frill pinned around the
neck and down the front.
Back to the shoe department Josie hurried and flopped herself down by
a young woman who was busily engaged in trying on several styles of
bargain pumps. Her slender, high-arched foot was just the kind for the
shoes advertised as greatly reduced. It was the woman of the morning,
but she, too, was much changed--so much so that Josie herself might
not have recognized her had she not been looking for and expecting a
change. The dress she wore was no longer a cheap blue serge but a
handsome tricolette, richly trimmed according to the prevailing mode.
Her hat was plainly a Paris model in strong contrast to the battered,
flower-trimmed thing she had worn in the morning. She also had been
using a lip-stick and an extra touch of color was on her cheeks.
"Such sweet shoes!" ventured Josie in a mincing tone quite in keeping
with her henna wig and lace ruffle. "My, you have a pretty arch!"
The young woman smiled encouragement, while the admiring shoe
clerk tried on a smart brown suede pump.
"I have been trying to get my arch up," continued Josie, sticking out her
own well-shod little foot. Josie had very pretty feet and they were one
weakness. She always wore a sensible shoe, but it must be of the best
material and nobby cut.
"What do you advise?" she asked the clerk. "But maybe you can tell
me," she said, addressing the young woman by her side. "Your foot is
so wonderful."
The woman was evidently pleased and flattered.
"Oh, thanks awfully," she drawled.
"I wonder if you dance much," continued Josie. "I bet you could do
barefoot dancing with such a foot as that. Now could you? Ain't her
foot a wonder?" to the clerk.

"I never saw a prettier," was his verdict.
"Well, I do dance," she confessed. "In fact, dancing is my profession.
I'm not working right now but expect to get back on the road
immediately."
"How thrilling!" cried Josie. Josie's intimates had often wondered at her
histrionic powers when she pretended to be stupid, which was her usual
way of disarming persons who might have been suspicious of her. She
had found out much about those archvillains Felix and Hortense Markle
by an assumption of supreme dullness. But no one of her acquaintances
had ever seen Josie assume the role of a skittish, dressed-up miss,
painted and brazen, talkative and impertinent.
"I'm just dying to go on the stage," she continued. "I get awful tired of
pounding out a